


the fireworks were just for you

by starrrambles



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Hogwarts AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-27 03:58:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6268684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrrambles/pseuds/starrrambles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raven is a Muggle-born Ravenclaw who blows stuff up way too often. It may or may not have a little something to do with Healer Abby Griffin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the fireworks were just for you

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by this post by Maryne/toodrunktofindaurl. Also by her incredible art but that should go without saying. 
> 
> http://toodrunktofindaurl.tumblr.com/post/141136473421/whispers-muggleborn-ravenclaw-raven-always

The first time it happens, it is purely by accident. Well, _mostly_ purely by accident.

Raven had been working late into the night on an experimental charm. It wasn’t clicking. Something kept going wrong and the new spell wouldn’t stick. So the only thing she could do to clear her mind was leave the quiet Ravenclaw common room and sneak out to the kitchens. It had become a routine in the last six years at Hogwarts. Run down the stairs, tickle the pear on the huge fruit bowl painting and stealthily steal as much food as she wanted. Because, really, what’s a genius without some fuel? Some delicious chocolate frogs could go a long way.

Raven was busy stuffing her face and filling her pockets with any snack she could see around the kitchen when she heard the clatter of silverware in the far back. It was that darned Bloody Baron. If there was one ghost in the school that would rattle her out, it was definitely the Slytherin spirit. Raven ducked behind the table but knew she had been spotted by the eerie cackle that resounded in the room.

“What other choice did I have?” she would say to her friends in the following days as an explanation for her actions that night. Actions that included casting a number of illusion spells that made all the silverware appear to be dancing, flipping the entire Gryffindor dining table, and -this was the accidental part- tipping over a few candles that may or may not have set some type of ancient rug on fire.

She would have made a perfect get away, too, had the cursed noise not summoned a few house elves around. In their almost petrified stupor of trying to fix the whole mess one of them had got caught in the ends of the rug. And Raven really liked Periwinkle (yes, she knew the names of all the house elves, that didn’t make her any less tough, thank you very much), she liked the way his big purple ears would flop when he bounced around carrying food, how he would grin like the happiest child when he managed to please someone. She couldn’t just leave him tossing and turning next to some burning carpet.

So she may have gotten burned a little bit, no big deal. And maybe Professor Indra had not been too happy to wake up to the sounds of the disaster in the kitchen but there were no real consequences. What was a 50 point deduction from Ravenclaw when Raven could make up the points in a day just from sitting in her classes and raising her hand whenever the fancy struck her? The only annoying part was having to drag herself up to the hospital wing for a check up. Her arm wasn’t even going to scar, the Ravenclaw had promptly applied some of the self-heal powder she had been working on for weeks. It hadn’t helped her leg but seemed to stop new wounds from progressing if applied soon enough.

“Describe your pain, please.” were definitely the words that passed through Raven’s ears, but those were words that her brain couldn’t process immediately. Her neurons were busy firing and processing something else. Because Hogwarts’ Healer, blurry eyed and with a light smile, wrapped in a warm night robe, was something else.

“Absolutely no pain now that you’re here.” Raven gave her a toothy grin.

The Healer raised an eyebrow but did not comment. She was inspecting the student’s arm carefully before ultimately asking.

“Mandragore essence and mooncloth were involved in this balm you’ve applied, I assume?”

Raven’s smile grew cocky and could have easily reached her ears. She was ready to explain her concoction but the older woman spoke again.

“I don’t know if I should be impressed that a sixth year has managed to combine the two, or horrified to think of how no one has noticed you sneaking into the Forbidden Forest to get the ingredients. This is dangerous for even adult magic users, Miss Reyes.”

“It’s only dangerous if you don’t know what you’re doing --”

The Healer cut her off again.

“It’s still not a stable solution. This powder will need a little bit more work.” She had applied another layer of something cool to Raven’s skin. “You won’t have any scars but be careful with experimenting on yourself.”

“Like I said, it’s only --”

“I don’t want to hear it. Now off you go to bed.”

Raven sighed with as much needless dramaticism as she could muster in the situation. And slowly dragged herself out. She did linger at the door only for a second to cast a final look towards the Healer.

“I usually don’t let other people touch the heavenly gift of my body without at least dinner first, or, you know, knowing their name.”

The woman laughed easily and freely.

“It’s Abby.”

Raven smirked. She hadn’t seen this woman in all her time at Hogwarts before but she could surely get used to the sights of her. T

he morning breeze touched Raven’s face as the girl was finally falling asleep. In her dreams cherry blossom trees had covered an entire valley and a beautiful laugh, easy and free was cascading around.

***

The second time it happened was… Eh, it wasn’t an accident, but it was absolutely, positively not Raven’s fault. If anything, it was self defense. Maybe precautionary self defense, but self defense nonetheless.

She’d had a dreadfully slow morning. Double History of Magic with Gryffindor meant she had no one to talk to, for once. If she could usually rile up Lexa or get her to compete and see who could get more points won in the span of five minute, this was no longer an option once a certain blonde would come in the picture. Clarke and Lexa were disgusting and Raven had no choice but to ignore them spend time actually listening to the lessons which…

Which didn’t last long. Raven slowly and quietly gathered her stuff and walked out. Most of the students had fallen asleep and if they hadn’t - who would have dared to stop her? She wandered around the fourth floor for a bit and checked a few statues that she suspected could lead to hidden passageways. No such luck. After meandering a bit more, the Ravenclaw forfeited her exploration of the school and headed towards the grounds. She liked this simple oak tree that overlooked the Great Lake where she would usually be left to her own devices.

And the girl had plenty to do. She had some ideas to sketch out for a self-transfiguring desk, she was eager to outline some ways to improve the creation of wands, and had been dying to start making progress on sewing her own invisibility cloak. It was a tough life, being a genius, but someone had to do it, Raven thought and laid on the even thick green grass by the tree.

Her work started well and would have gone even better if it wasn’t for those brick-headed Slytherins who had come out and started throwing magic stones into the lake. Magic stones that had the distinct coloring of abrasia, a type of rock that merpeople despised.

What Raven did next truly was the embodiment of self defense… if self defense were to ever act first and unprovoked, but that was a minor detail.

“I didn’t care for being exposed to the wrath of merpeople, that’s why.” Raven would later explain to anyone who’d bother to ask why she did what she did.

And what she did left two Slytherin boys with their clothes on fire, one girl with an ice-covered rob, and another with an exploding bag that would explode, fix itself, and then explode again.

Raven would have gotten away with this number too, if it weren’t for the gangly brat that had seen her and hexed her.

None of it was a big deal. Another 20 points discarded from Ravenclaw which she’d make up by next morning and some slight cuts on her forehead. She’d had fixed them too but simply didn’t care.

Which wasn’t the way Abby felt.

“Did we not talk about responsible behavior with you last time?”

“I don’t distinctly recall that being mentioned.” Raven winked playfully.

The Healer was treating the cuts with some type of liquid that stung a fair bit but immediately closed the wounds.

“You have pretty hands, you know they -- “

“Raven!” Abby cut her off, voice full of something not quite stern or serious.

In the daylight Raven could finally look at the older woman properly. She had a rich and slightly wavy blonde hair that fell down below her shoulders and warm brown eyes that could switch from calm to playful in the flicker of a second. There was something familiar about her smooth cheeks and sharp jawline that the Ravenclaw couldn’t place.

They stayed quiet for a moment before Raven suddenly felt herself blushing and decided to take her leave. She lingered by the door once more, managed to pull her bravado and ask,

“How about that dinner though?”

Abby was shaking her head but laughing that beautiful laugh. It hadn’t been the worst of days after all.

***

The third time it happened… Okay, this one wasn’t accidental per se but was completely for the sake of the development of magic.

Raven was practicing a new brew for a remember-all potion. And it wasn’t perfect. It was the kind of not-perfect that had blasted the cauldron to smithereens and destroyed half the room.

At least she somewhat kinda had permission to be there and got away without costing Ravenclaw another point loss. Despite her protests, Professor Slughorn sent her up the Hospital wing. Walking up the stairs, Raven actually found herself excited to see Abby again. What she did not expect was to open the doors and find Clarke pathetically whining “But mooom” at the Healer.

Raven’s jaw would have dropped if she were a mere mortal, but this was Raven Reyes, smartest witch of all times. (Well, maybe excluding Minister of Magic Granger, but that witch had a few years lead on Raven.) So Raven quickly composed herself and went for a simple,

“Really, Clarke? You failed to mention your mom is the hot Healer anytime these last six years?”

Her friend muttered an apologetic “We’re keeping it on the down low” before excusing herself.

Raven didn’t even feel like cracking any of her usually cocky jokes later, as Abby was tending to the latest series of wounds. She could see the motherly worry in those clear brown eyes that had been so carefree just a few days ago.

***

The fourth time it happened… Raven had no excuse. People just shouldn’t startle her when she is in the middle of something.

The muggle-born was up in the Owlery trying to test a type of parchment that would dissolve mid-flight if the bird carrying it would squeeze tight. It would be a smart way to transport important messages.

And then stupid Lincoln and Octavia had to waltz in attached to the mouth. Is this where they went to secretly make out? As if they were fooling anyone.

Unfortunately, they did enter loudly enough to unsettle the birds and surprise Raven who dropped some of the enchanted parchment. If the parchment exploded and a few hundred owls suddenly took flight… Well, you’d have to blame her stupid Hufflepuff best friend and that ogre boyfriend of hers.

“Why did you decide to be a Healer?” Raven asked, as Abby was hovering over her in the Hospital wing once more.

They’d managed to have a few longer conversations and Raven couldn’t deny it. She was crushing on the Healer. Originally she thought it was just her lean muscles, her pretty smile, and that confident step of hers that drew her in. But the more the older woman spoke, the more Raven discovered her kindness, her humor, her wit. It was becoming hard to deny she’d seek her company again, like a moth looking for light.

***

It took a few more times - a broken staircase, a painting that had frozen in fear, and a gargoyle that melted, before a few words slipped from Raven that changed everything.

It wasn’t really anything big. It was a mere,

“Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?”

Of course Abby had said no. But there’d been a pause, a moment of quiet where the Healer’s eyes were soft and her smile welcoming.

Then it took a few more times - a broom that couldn’t land, a bunch of chairs that had been transformed into flamingoes that couldn’t be captured - before Abby breached the subject again.

“Raven, you’re not getting into trouble just to have a reason to come here, now are you?”

“Well, maybe if you’d go to Hogsmeade with me, or anywhere else, we could apparate to Muggle London, and I know this restaurant -- “

“Sweetheart, you just turned 17.”

It was the sadness in Raven’s eyes that was so clear to Abby. She could see this bright, talented, wild young woman was headed down a path more dangerous than anything Abby had warned her about that first night they met. Because the Healer knew she wouldn’t be able to mend a heart that was soon to be broken. Not at Hogwarts. Not like this.

***

But it didn’t come to it. The sixth year rolled by and Raven’s appearances decreased but didn’t stop. Abby would still hear about a pack of gobblethroties unleashed somewhere and would know too well which blue-robed student could be behind it. But the girl came only rarely, usually by the insistence of a concerned professor who couldn’t figure out why their blackboard had started talking or the windows of their classroom had suddenly disappeared.

Ever since the age bomb had been dropped, Raven had ceased all inappropriate comments and flirtations that had previously ran rampant. It was just once or twice that Abby would hear a soft creak on the wooden floors late at night in the Hospital wing. In the morning she’d infallibly find a vase with freshly cut flowers or chocolate frogs, so clearly stolen from the kitchen, waiting for her. There was no note or letter, but Abby knew.

That summer rolled by quickly and Raven only caught a quick glimpse of Abby when she was meeting Clarke (and by extension Lexa) to head to the World Quidditch Final. It was a polite smile and wave kind of deal that did absolutely nothing to calm the fire in Raven’s heart.

***

The final year at Hogwarts was a stressful, busy time for almost every student. Raven, however, didn’t seem fazed in the slightest. She had submitted some ideas for new replenishing vials to the Ministry of Magic which they had turned down (citing they were too dangerous and likely to explode far too often to ever be mass produced). But they had offered her a job, a whole term before final exams. Raven knew she could ace her N.E.W.T.s. with a blindfold on, in fact she had already enchanted a few blindfolds and made bets with Monty that she’d be allowed to take her exams with them.

For the most part of the year, everything took its usual course. Lessons were had and Quidditch games were played, and Raven, of course, blew some more things up. She wasn’t even trying to deny that she wanted to see Abby. When Clarke half-jokingly teased her about it, Raven only rolled her eyes meekly.

So quietly, exams rolled by and Hogwarts had gathered for one final dinner before yet another school year would wrap up.

The seventh years were enjoying some butterbeer and some smuggled firewhiskey and everyone was happily stuffing their faces with a delicious meal in the Great Hall. The ceiling of the room as always mirrored the outsides. Today it was a pristine blue with few stars already coming out.

And really, when people would later ask Raven she’d tell them it was an accident. After all, firewhiskey was called firewhiskey for a reason, and sometimes that reason happens to make the white dinner cloth catch on fire which may in turn send a whole table in blaze…

This would have been a small mess, likely quick to fix, if at the same time the magical ceiling of the Great Hall didn’t display a stunning show of fireworks. It went on perhaps for a minute, perhaps for an hour, and some still say it went on the whole night. But no one had an explanation why some of the fireworks would appear to fall from the sky every now and then, except they’d never hit the ground. Just before they’d hit, they’d turn into flowers. Right below their mark was Healer Abby Griffin’s seat on the professor’s table. Or rather what once was the professor’s table, because the whole darned thing was covered in petals and bouquets.

Later that night, after the fuss had been settled, Abby was tending to some small burns Raven had endured from the firewhiskey mess. They made idle chatter for a while before Raven was all patched up.

“You didn’t have to make such a show just to say goodbye to me, you know.” The Healer joked.

“It was a farewell for the entire school, you know that. They’re gonna miss me too much.”

Another small silence stood between them. Raven reached out and squeezed Abby’s hand briefly.

The Ravenclaw lingered by the door one final time, smirked her devilish smirk, and said. “Well. The fireworks were just for you.”

Before she could step out, that same hand Raven had held just moments ago had grabbed her waist and pulled her forwards into a warm, welcoming body. Their kiss was small and tentative for a moment so charged with feelings.

Abby didn’t let the silence fall around them again. Instead she asked,

“So how about that dinner?”


End file.
